I'd Rather Be Surfing
by Manchester
Summary: Driving inland, Faith wryly thought it was B who was s'posed to be the beach bunny, but damned if life couldn't throw you a helluva curve. These sentiments soon changed into exasperation over yet another weird part of her life as a Slayer. Rating is for language.
1. Chapter 1

*Oh, great, the fuckin' elevator's broken,* grouchily thought Faith. Another quick look at Willow's locator showed to the brunette woman that the small ring on her finger was still stubbornly declaring her prize would be found somewhere higher above in the Pasadena apartment building. Shooting her best evil glare at the warning tape stretched across the elevator doors, Faith started her trudge up the nearby stairs. After the first few steps, a ticked-off Slayer began irritably muttering under her breath: "Get changed into a superwoman, Faith. Get to slice 'n dice lotsa demons, Faith. Get to start the New Council, Faith. Get a phone call yanking you back to work, Faith. Shit, if I don't beat up someone pretty soon, I'm gonna get pissed."

If you might think this was going a little bit too far, consider the fact that _nobody_ likes having their vacation interrupted.

* * *

Several weeks ago, Faith had commenced her long-awaited break from her usual duties of working for the New Council by arriving at the Cleveland airport in the middle of a February near-blizzard. Which only increased this woman's grim determination to take the first available flight _anywhere_ with warm and sunny weather. Even if she had to personally hijack the damned plane to get there. It eventually wound up with her landing in San Diego, a city she'd barely heard of, but had been assured by the airport staff to fit her requirements perfectly.

A half-hour after arriving at her beachside hotel, Faith had changed into a near-illegal, barely-there bikini and she was contentedly soaking up some rays from a cloudless sky while sprawled out on the chaise longue placed in the middle of her second-floor suite balcony.

Turning over to even her tan, Faith found a brochure lying on the hotel table next to her chair. Lazily reaching out for this, she read in there a list of activities the hotel offered its guests. Nothing seemed all that interesting, until the Slayer noticed a surfing demonstration/instruction course for anyone about an hour from now. Deciding she might as well check this out after taking a dip in the ocean later on, Faith dropped the brochure back onto the table, next to the frosty glass filled with a frozen margarita. The nubile woman then grabbed her drink delivered from room service by a bug-eyed hotel attendant a few minutes ago, and she blissfully slurped down the chilly alcoholic concoction.

Several hours afterwards, a very astonished Boston native found out that not only was she good at surfing, but she'd _loved_ every moment of it. Faith spent the next couple of days out in the ocean on a hotel surfboard, riding every wave she could catch. When eventually the Pacific showed just why its now-calm waters had been named this, the news of even better waves further north caused Faith to check out of the hotel, rent a car, and go on the road. To be precise, the Pacific Coast Highway. Along the way, she visited all the best spots - Black's Beach, the Trestles, Huntington Beach - while also collecting surfing paraphernalia from the local shops. After cramming several surfboards, wetsuits, wax, and anything else which caught her eye into her car, a happy Faith arrived in Los Angeles, ready to hit the sand as only a smokin' hot Slayer could manage.

Until her goddamn boss finally tracked her down.

Barely restraining her irate impulse to stomp her cell phone into tiny splinters, Faith sullenly listened to Rupert Giles, Director of the New Council, yammer into her ear: "Urgent task, yadda, yadda, yadda, fate of entire world may rest on your shoulders, blah, blah, blah, only person I trust on this, rhubarb, rhubarb, rhubarb, plus you're the closest one around I can send right away-"

Okay, time to put the screws on him.

Tersely cutting off the tedious explanation of some dire magical thingamajig getting sold on eBay to an unaware buyer located in Pasadena which needed to be speedily recovered before it ate the whole city or turned everyone into lime jell-o or some other fuckin' catastrophe, Faith announced, "I wanna 'nother two weeks' vacation."

A shocked gasp done in proper genteel British fashion came from Faith's phone, followed by Tweed-man's disapproving voice, "Really, Faith, don't you have any idea how vital this is? Not to mention it's going to adversely affect the Cleveland Slayers House break schedule-"

"All I know, from how close you sound to wettin' yourself, that I just changed my mind and you're gonna give me _three _weeks, instead. Want to go for a full month, Giles?"

A despairing roar of agreement then came all the way from Scotland, "All right, all right, three weeks it is, you bloody woman! Now, move your arse!"

Smugly shutting off her phone, Faith reflected by the end of those three weeks, she should be experienced enough to take on Mavericks, the West Coast location known for its monster surf. Damn, but life was good.

Of course, before then she had to get her hands on some magic doohickey, taking it away from its newest owner by any means necessary. Might as well as head over there right now. Hopefully, by the time she got back to the beach, she wouldn't have missed too many waves.

Oh, and the world hadn't ended.


	2. Chapter 2

Well, she was here, right in front of the apartment door having the same address as the receipt of the eBay buyer. This sheet of paper magically transported to her by Willow also had on it a picture of the item of magical junk Faith was supposed to collect. It seemed to be a really crappy-looking knife of some sort, but one made by a half-blind, drunken smith who'd never made or even seen one before, merely hearing a description of it. The Slayer rolled her eyes at the prospect of meeting the sucker who'd been conned into paying real cash money for this hunk of garbage. Fortunately, the red-haired Scooby had included in her witchy delivery a small ring. According to Willow's instructions, this would allow Faith to unerringly find the knife whenever she came nearer than fifty feet to it.

Suspiciously eyeing the little piece of jewelry on her finger (which bore such a striking resemblance to a 1970's mood ring it made Faith firmly believe Red had been incessantly giggling throughout whipping this up), the brunette woman also made one last check of her clothes. Since she had no idea at all who'd bought that lousy knife, save for his name - Leonard somebody - Faith decided to dress up as best as she could for the occasion. Her normal attire of biker slut and far more recently of surf bitch probably wouldn't have been appropriate, so the East Coast native had put on her best apparel from her luggage, a decent enough feminine outfit of a black shoulder purse, dark blue woman's jacket, white blouse, lighter blue modest skirt, tights, and flats. This should be enough to get her inside, and then she'd see how things went in deciding what to use next: bribery, violence, or seduction.

Sending another dubious look at the ring, even though it was displaying on the curved glass face of this a yellow arrowhead pointing precisely at the door, Faith raised her right hand to press the doorbell. Only to instantly freeze in this position, when her superhuman hearing sent the Slayer a warning that someone on the other side of the door was-

Leaving his buddies behind him busy at their computers in today's World of Warcraft marathon, Leonard Hofstadter pulled open his front door, on his way to get the mail. He stopped dead in his tracks at seeing the startled visitor out there about to announce her presence, mainly because this Caltech experimental physicist had encountered this beautiful woman before recently. Still, Leonard hadn't expected to ever see her again, which was a good thing, considering how much humiliation her various meetings with him and the other guys had caused.

"Agent Page!" choked Leonard. He shot a panicky look over his shoulder at Sheldon, Howard, and Raj too occupied with their battle against a horde of orcs to pay attention to him at the door. This also meant Leonard didn't see the bewildered expression suddenly appear upon the attractive features of his caller outside in the apartment hallway.

*What the _fuck?!_* frantically thought Faith. Still, her Slayer speed meant when the short guy who'd just greeted her by a name completely different from her own now glanced at her again, this woman stared back at him in a perfect deadpan.

This seemed to unnerve the apartment resident even more, with him babbling, "Uh, you're here about Howard, right? Just- just a moment, okay? I'll be right back!" At that, he closed the door in Faith's face almost entirely shut, leaving a narrow gap along the edge. Though, given her heightened senses, the Slayer could've heard well enough through a completely closed door a rapid scuttle by the flustered guy inside the room over to where three other persons were, to then hiss at them, "What the hell did you do now, Howard? The FBI lady who checked your security clearance is back here, right outside!"

"Oh, my God!" came in a horrified voice from another man sounding the same age as the first guy Faith had just met. This second man went on to fervently declare, "Look, I haven't screwed up anything lately that'd get the government's attention! The only issue which might land me in that much trouble happened too long ago, and besides, nobody knows how I ruined the space station toilet except for-" That voice abruptly stopped, only to soon begin again in utter loathing: "All right, which of you bastards squealed on me?"

A loud cacophony immediately broke out in the apartment living room, with three other argumentative male voices indignantly protesting at their accuser. Faith didn't bother trying to make this out, merely squeezing her eyes shut in disgust while slowly shaking her head at yet another total bizarre experience in her weird life. Finally glowering at the door, Faith decided enough was fuckin' enough.

Even over their loud yelling at each other, the four men in the room couldn't help but notice the apartment door swing open and a very beautiful government employee stalk into their sanctuary. Nervously falling silent when this female stopped short and coldly eyed them all, these scientists felt even more worried when their unexpected guest glanced at the empty couch and crisply inquired, "Can I sit down?"

"Oh, sure!" chorused Howard and Leonard, while Raj just remained his usual tongue-tied self in the presence of any woman. Sheldon, on the other hand, tilted his head in mild confusion over what was taking place and decided to wait and see what'd happen next. A few seconds later, all there were seated in their various chairs around the living room.

What then ensued was probably the most stilted conversation ever held throughout mankind's history. In a desperate attempt to start things off, Leonard introduced everybody, regardless of the fact Agent Page had already met all of them. She didn't seem too disconcerted by this, simply nodding at her named company.

Inwardly, Faith was thinking hard. From the sound of things, they knew whoever she was supposed to be and sorry to say, this not-her lady was definitely a cop. Well, hell, she'd been interrogated plenty often by the fuzz to know the basics, even if it was her first time on the other side. So, start with a few easy questions. *Just make damn sure you sound white-bread enough to come from anywhere; ain't probably a good idea to show off your Southie accent.*

Nonchalantly clearing her throat, with this still-sexy growl causing Raj to abruptly develop large beads of sweat on his dark forehead, Agent Page announced, "I'm here to check on a few minor details. Is that all right with you, gentlemen?"

From the eager bobbing of their heads done by three of the guys here, they were perfectly fine with it. However, the last of the four, in his position at the far end of the couch, he was intently staring at Faith as if she was some kind of rare bug trapped under his microscope. Giving this bozo a cool look, Faith went over the most innocuous things she could invent on the spot, getting quick and thankful answers from those dudes named Leonard and Howard.

Except, the only time she tried out a question on the Raj guy, this didn't work too well. It was damned creepy what he did, leaning over to whisper into Howard's ear, and that other man matter-of-factly delivering the answer. Since nobody else in the room but her seemed to think this was in any way strange, Faith restrained her reaction to a mere blink. Still, it made her quickly decide to finish up and get the hell out.

Glancing at her watch (and also at the ring she was wearing) just before getting onto her feet from the couch, the others also scrambled up from their own positions encircling the Slayer. Faith sternly nodded at the Leonard geek and she told him in her most officious tone, "Thank you for your cooperation, sir. That'll be all, but before I leave, may I use the bathroom?"

Opening his mouth to her for the first during their entire little chat, what's his name- Yeah, right, Sheldon now looked thoughtful, until he briskly informed Faith, "Certainly. Go down to the front entrance, turn left, and there's a gas station three blocks ahead-"

Groaning to the other man in a voice of resigned exasperation, Leonard wearily told him, "Sheldon, she means here!"

A supremely outraged expression flashed into existence upon the tall drink of water's pasty face. This shortly shifted into a full-fledged pout, while Sheldon then grumbled, "Oh, very well. I suppose our cleaning service can sterilize the place a day early. Please make it as quick as possible, Agent Page. We must prepare for our affray with the forces of evil, and this can't be delayed by your overactive bladder."

Too stunned to do anything but gape at Sheldon, Faith shook her head several times in a daze, before taking a deep breath and edging past a man who'd never know how close he'd just come to having numerous bones broken.


	3. Chapter 3

With clenched fists, Faith stalked off into the direction of where her ring was indicating, barely cognizant of the whispered harangue by Leonard towards a puzzled Sheldon over how thoroughly this theoretical physicist had just offended their guest. Passing by a bedroom door, the Slayer's eyes flicked towards this empty room due to the ring abruptly pointing in there. Faith glanced over her shoulder to see she was out of sight from the others in the living room, and she instantly dodged into the bedroom. Once there, she glanced around, and this woman right away found what she'd been seeking, resting on one of the bookshelves at the far wall.

Striding over, Faith dug into her purse on the way, coming out with an absolutely identical knife to the one now before her. A rapid switch was made, with the original knife being gingerly placed inside her otherwise empty purse. Both this personal bag and the replica had also been provided by Willow, who guaranteed the eBay buyer would never know anything was different about his purchase. Too, the purse would conveniently prevent the dangerous magical object now in there from harming anyone.

A stealthy departure from the bedroom found Faith back in the short hallway leading to the bathroom. From the sounds of those guys still arguing in the living room, none of them had noticed her quick pilfering, so the Slayer went on to have the previously mentioned pit stop, which she needed anyway.

A minute or so later, Faith left the bathroom, promising to herself to always in the future keep a cherry bomb in her pockets to flush down the toilet. The creep who'd just insulted her damned well deserved something like that- Stopping dead in her tracks, Faith slowly smiled, producing an expression of unrivaled malice which would've surely sent her Scooby Gang comrades fleeing for the hills. Oh, yeah. Even if she couldn't physically rip off that guy's head, it'd be just as fun to mess with it.

Returning to the living room, a law enforcement agent sent towards the four men gazing with mixed emotions at her a very bland look in return. Without further ado, Ms. Page held out her hand to shake goodbye with them all. Leonard and Sheldon, both glad that this time things had gone reasonably well, eagerly lined up to do this. Naturally, things didn't go as smoothly when it was Raj's turn.

Rajesh Koothrappali's ordinarily genial relationship with his California friends hit a rocky patch for the next several days, since they rather reasonably refused to believe what the New Delhi astrophysicist kept insisting had happened to him. Namely, when Agent Page shook his sweaty hand, this female avatar of beauty then seductively rubbed the ball of her thumb several times in circles against his damp palm. There was also the totally unbelievable claim that during this, from the side of her face hidden from the others, the stone-cold gorgeous hot mama had delivered to him a wonderfully bawdy wink.

Sheldon lifted an eyebrow in proper Spock fashion at Raj collapsing to the floor in a quivering heap. The FBI agent, obviously unused to reactions like this, hastily stepped back, making way for Leonard and Howard to rush forward and aid their friend. Continuing to disapprovingly watch yet another Koothrappali meltdown in the presence of a member of the female gender, Sheldon failed to notice an advancing presence taking advantage of the distraction she'd created, until a malevolent hiss clearly meant for his ears alone came from the woman next to him.

"It won't matter how good your cleaners are, 'cause they'll never find or fix what I just did in your precious bathroom, smart-ass. Enjoy."

Sweeping out of the living room, Faith pulled the front door closed after her departure. She next paused out in the hallway, listening through the panel. Sure enough, the Sheldon guy promptly announced with utter seriousness back there, "Leonard, we're moving. Now."

Clapping her hand over her mouth just in time to prevent her sudden guffaws from escaping, Faith still nearly lost it anyway at Leonard's shocked yelp, "_What?!_ Why the hell should we?"

Her shoulders shaking with glee at pulling off such a perfect payback, Faith next heard the asshole known as Sheldon uneasily declare, "I haven't the slightest idea, and I don't ever want to know for sure. Nonetheless, start packing."

Gaily humming to herself while heading for the stairs, Faith left behind in her wake the start of yet another ferocious argument between Leonard and Sheldon, watched with evident enjoyment by Howard standing over the comatose body of Raj.

Coming out of the apartment building, the Slayer proceeded along the street sidewalk towards her car parked up the block. Pulling out her cell phone from a jacket pocket, Faith hit redial and waited until she heard a very familiar, "Hello?"

"JOLLY GOOD SHOW, SAH!" roared Faith into the mouthpiece in a truly horrendous English accent. Grinning at the shocked silence ensuring from her phone, she snickered, "Guess who, Giles, old chap?"

"Are you done, Faith?" acidly inquired Rupert Giles, shifting his phone receiver to the other side of his head, while rubbing at a ringing ear opposite there.

"Yup, glorious and wise master of us Slayers bowing and scraping to your every whim," drawled the woman leaning against the side of her rental car. "Which in case ya forgot, included me picking up that stupid knife from a bunch of world-class geeks. Went almost like a charm. I got it right in my purse, ready to be Fed-exed or however you want it."

"Oh, good," sighed the director of the New Council in his genuine relief. "I'll let Willow know. She said it'd be safe to magically move it inside the purse, unlike the danger of her using any large-scale transportation spells on that bloody thing when it was out in the open. Listen, here's what you need to do next: put your purse somewhere out of sight where it'll stay still, and then just wait. Fifteen minutes from now, Willow's spell to bring it over here will start, and we'll finally be able to properly dispose of it. Which, I'm afraid, will also include the purse. I hope this isn't a disappointment-"

"Nah," shrugged Faith, glancing at her watch to make sure of the time. She straightened up away from the car, and started walking down the sidewalk again. The woman continued into her phone, "Don't give a damn 'bout the bag. I'm heading to a park across the street. There's a picnic table I can see from here which looks perfect. Everything'll be ready in a minute, tops."

At his office desk inside the ancient castle which was the Scotland headquarters for the New Council with its multitude of Slayers and Watchers, Giles nodded in satisfaction. Until he abruptly became still in his chair. A certain word among the conversation of the past few minutes had just stridently called attention to itself in the Englishman's memory. Closing his eyes in dismay, a former high school librarian glumly asked, already certain he wasn't going to enjoy this, "Faith, a moment ago you mentioned, 'Went _almost _like a charm.' Could you be more specific, please?"

A frankly obnoxious cackle came drifting through the earpiece of Giles' phone, along with a triumphant woman chortling, "Took ya long enough, didn't it? Must be all those concussions catching up with ya-"

"Faith!" gritted Giles.

The Slayer smirked into the distance while stepping onto the other sidewalk before the park grounds, offhandedly noting, "Ain't no big deal." Glancing around to make sure she was the only one in the vicinity, Faith headed to the picnic table she'd chosen and sat down on the bench of this metal table. Taking her purse off and putting it at the other end of the bench, she casually informed her exasperated listener, "Just saying, it sure woulda been a helluva lot better if anyone but me showed up to do the job."

"Why?" blankly responded a confused Briton, only to then be told the reason by a very sardonic Slayer:

"Because I've got another damn double out here!"


	4. Chapter 4

Ever since the Sunnydale collapse had scattered the Scooby Gang around the world, these brave men and women continued to safeguard the world from supernatural menaces. Over the years, this had included some more _really_ weird stuff in their already strange lives. Such as at one time or the other, an astonished Scooby had come across somebody who appeared to be absolutely identical to them.

The first time it'd happened, a hasty reunion of the whole surviving core members - Giles, Buffy, Willow, Xander, Dawn, and Faith - had been organized. They'd next gone into full investigative overdrive, led by an alarmed witch determined to get to the bottom of this. Nobody even dared to mention the First, despite seeing for themselves a restaurant chef wearing cook's whites bustling around in his workplace. This man had Xander's matching face, down to the very last detail before their friend lost his left eye in Sunnydale.

In their group conference around a table at this same restaurant a day later, Willow started to explain what she'd discovered using her magic. Only to quickly interrupt herself to reassure Dawn now feeling horribly guilty. It wasn't her fault in any way, Willow stressed to this downcast younger woman, but rather the unforeseen outcome of what some fear-stricken monks had done years ago.

Think of it this way, Willow suggested to the puzzled others. Take a rock, hold it over a puddle, and let go. The rock falls, splashes into the water, and makes ripples moving away from where the rock landed. Now, the monks of the Order of Dagon had taken an immaterial essence of pure energy known as the Key, transformed it into a real human girl, and sent this newly brought forth person into the care of someone able to protect Dawn Marie Summers from an hellgoddess. It was a tremendous feat of magic, and the end result had been to land that same girl right into the middle of the most powerful Hellmouth in millennia. Unfortunately, it hadn't stopped there.

From what Willow learned, this action also unintentionally sent mystical ripples of magic throughout time and space far and wide from the Boca del Infierno. These ripples subtly warped reality to bring into existence even _more_ people, aside from Dawn. All of whom then went on living their lives, along with anyone else around them, as if they'd always been there. Just as the Scoobies had done with Buffy's kid sister for the first few months of her stay at 1630 Revello Drive. But, even though the truth had finally come out in Sunnydale, this hadn't occurred elsewhere. Away from the corrupting influence of the Hellmouth, the magic which created Xander's counterpart never failed, and this other man still assuredly believed himself to be exactly like the rest of humanity.

The witch then reluctantly divulged to the others that there wasn't anything else her own magic could find out. The natural subtlety of the inadvertent spell made it impossible for her to locate any more lookalikes out there. It wasn't like searching for a needle in a haystack; it was trying to find the sole haystack in farming country which _might_ have a needle in there. Because the reality-altering spell hadn't just affected the whole world, it'd also involved time. So, there could in all probability be younger Scoobies somewhere. Or older, who'd now passed away. Or maybe even both.

It was at that point when the entire table of former Sunnydalers, including a suitably disguised Xander, grabbed for their drinks ordered earlier, and they simultaneously downed at one gulp various glasses of booze.

Patting a coughing Xander on his back, Willow raspingly delivered to her friend a little more bad news. Namely, it wouldn't be wise to ever meet in person his mirror image over there being yelled at by another chef. Like the rest of those seated at their table, who'd survived the Hellmouth's collapse, they still bore within themselves traces of this dimensional nexus' magic from living there. So, if Xander ever came face to face with his double, it was possible this would result in the unraveling of the spell keeping Seth Richman, pastry chef, unaware of his true nature-

"Don't you dare!" hissed Dawn from across the table to a surprised Xander. She paused to blink away abrupt tears, with the entire table seeing the equally sudden haunted expression on her face. A somber mood descended upon the others sitting there, who all knew about the Key's mental trauma after learning the specifics of how she'd become human, with Dawn not taking this very well at the time.

Xander reached past his plate to compassionately clasp his hands around Dawn's trembling fingers. "Hey, Dawnstar, settle down. I'm not gonna, okay?" soothingly spoke the man with a glamour spell cast on him earlier that evening.

Gently squeezing her hand in real love, Xander then released his grip, and he leaned back in his chair. Glancing over into Willow's worried gaze, Xander directed his next statement to this witch, "Wils, if you say don't do it, that's good enough for me. I've been through this kind of thing before, anyway. Remember me being split into two people? Not all that interested in going through it again. Besides, he's a complete stranger, not my twin broth- Wait a minute! Is he, uh, related to me, like Buffy and Dawn are?" These last words came rushing out from a startled New Council member over this worrisome possibility.

The two sisters at the table stared in shock at each other at the very idea, only to relax at Willow's hasty assertion to Xander and the rest of them. "No, no! I checked, both magically and scientifically. They might look the same, but Xan and him back there, they don't have fraternal DNA. There's even different blood types for them."

From where Faith was at the end of the table, switching her bemused gaze back and forth from boytoy to that pie-making guy, this Slayer sardonically tossed off, "Well, that's a damn good thing, right? There ain't no chance now for some stupid soap opera crisis, with either of 'em suddenly needing a kidney from the other guy, or some extra shit like that."

"As ever, Faith," dryly mentioned Giles from his other end of the table, "You've put our minds at ease over something we hadn't even begin to consider." The mature Englishman sent a calm gaze at the young lady childishly sticking out her tongue at him, to then speak to the rest of their company. "Although, this raises another point. _We_" (Giles deliberately stressed this word to mark its importance) "can refrain from contacting that gentleman over there, but what about anybody else? It was mere chance one of us saw and recognized him, but there's nothing which could prevent in the future another former Sunnydale resident - either human or from that city's demonic population - to think he's really Xander. Which might put Mr. Richman in actual danger-"

Firmly shaking her head, Willow broke in on their leader, "Nope, that's not going to happen. You see, there's a part of the spell on Xander's double which I didn't get to tell you about yet. It's something I want to research further, just to see if I can duplicate it. But right now, Giles, there's almost no chance of what you mentioned, and it all has to do with Sunnydale, strangely enough."

The witch beamed around at the intent stares of her friends impatiently waiting for her to finish, to then happily declare, "It's like this: Xan's double - and maybe anyone else also created by those monks' accidental spell - has a really strong case of Sunnydale Syndrome. Just like all my hometown neighbors, he'll totally ignore any strange stuff he comes across about demons and magic and all that. But what's different is it'll also work just as well in the _other_ direction. Just about any vamp or other demon will pay no attention at all to _him,_ too."

"Dear Lord," was whispered by Giles, mirroring the stunned mood of the other's over what they'd just been told. Eagerly speaking before the rest of the table could join in, the director of the New Council appealed, "Willow, do you indeed think you can recreate that effect on other people? It'd be absolutely wonderful to be able to protect everybody from supernatural harm."

Wryly nodding at this, Willow still cautioned, "If I can do it at all, it'll still take me a long time to figure it out. That darned spell is really complicated. Plus, keep in mind it won't be a cure-all. About Sunnydale Syndrome, some people were never affected by it, or overcame it eventually when the evidence got shoved right into their faces. Like me and Xan," she added matter-of-factly with this latter Scooby grimacing in shared agreement.

The witch went on to point out, "Also, even though Xan's lookalike in this restaurant has some magical protection against demons, it's not perfect either. If there's no other prey at hand, any vamp might be able to target him, despite his Sunnydale Syndrome mirror effect. No, guys, he'll just have to take his chances like the rest of us."

"Well," aggressively began Giles, "We can at least refrain from further putting Mr. Richman in peril, along with whomever else may be out there created by that unintentional spell. For now, I want to keep this absolutely private. Everyone," he raised his voice slightly while sweeping his gaze around the table, "unless this incident repeats itself, merely stay watchful over the possibility, and if it indeed occurs, follow the same principles as this event. Report immediately to myself, Willow, and the rest of us here. Don't ever directly contact this person, save for when their life's in actual danger at that precise moment. If that happens, then we'll just have to deal with it the best we can."

Accepting nods came from Willow, Xander, Faith, Dawn, and Buffy regarding these clear orders. Now that their Scooby Gang business seemed to be done with, the people at the restaurant table reached for their menus, and Giles looked around for a waiter to have their drinks refilled. Casting her eye over the dessert section while idly wondering if Xan's double made those delicious-sounding pastries, Faith absently mentioned to nobody in particular: "Doesn't seem likely this sort of thing is gonna happen again anyway, guys. There's what, like, seven billion other people around on Earth? Findin' Xan's twin hasta just be a weird stroke of luck for us, right?"

Nobody replied to Faith. In fact, an absolute silence fell over the entire table, causing Faith to lift her gaze in surprise. She saw the rest of the Scooby Gang staring sadly at her, with Xander at last breaking the silence to say in a very hollow tone, "You _do _know that you just totally jinxed us? Ten seconds from now, a busload of our dopplegangers is going to come through that front door!"

"Oh, bullshit," scoffed Faith. Still, ten seconds later, this Slayer's eyes nervously flicked towards the restaurant entrance.


	5. Chapter 5

From Faith's position at the picnic table, sitting there while resting her elbows on the top of this park furniture and in turn pensively perching her chin upon her held-together clenched fists, the Slayer mused over whether she'd truly jinxed them all. From the sound of Rupert Giles' pained groan after being told of what information Faith could pass onto him regarding her latest double, this older man indeed thought so. On the other hand, Giles was probably just fuckin' jealous, what with _him_ never having run across a single solitary lookalike for the Director of the New Council.

Nor had anyone else of the other Scoobies, and trust them, they'd all kept an eye out during the ensuing years after Xander's doppelganger first came to their attention. Except as stated before, the gang had to admit total failure in finding an alter ego for Giles. Not even Willow could imagine any reasonable explanation for this. Instead, she'd dryly reminded her friends once more that the accidental spell which created their magical lookalikes had been an utterly random event, and so the effects of this would also be completely unpredictable.

A good example was Dawn's own personal mirror image. You'd think the whole reason for this might have a bunch of Little D's out there, but they'd only ever found one of them, as in Xander's case. Well…found wasn't exactly the right word. More like plastered all over MTV in her initial music video performance celebrating a hit single screechingly delivered at full ear-splitting volume. The young pop singer pretentiously calling herself Celeste was watched on the big-screen television during her gyrations and lip-synching by the disbelieving eyes of the Scooby Gang again brought together by this latest bit of weirdness.

From where they and their friends were clustered in one of the otherwise deserted recreation rooms provided for the castle personnel to kick back and relax, Buffy put a comforting arm around Dawn's slumping shoulders while the pair of women sat side-by-side on their couch in the Scottish headquarters. Whispering sympathetically into her sister's ear, the older sibling suggested to the girl with her face buried in her hands, "Look, Dawnie, this might not be all that bad. Maybe nobody's watching her-"

Dawn's head snapped up, to then furiously shriek right into Buffy's startled features, "That's MTV International! The whole world's watching!"

"Wait a second," Xander looked up from his laptop to stare in confusion at the big-screen tv against the far wall, now thankfully set at mute. He blinked at a very close-up shot of the sudden lascivious licking of her lips done by someone he had clear (if false) memories of baby-sitting in her Toy Story jammies. Despite himself, Xander had to look over at where Dawn was sitting…and gazing back at him with a truly baleful expression threatening this man with bloody death and dismemberment. If he didn't at once stop thinking those thoughts she damned well knew he was considering at this moment.

Turning bright red, Xander hastily switched his attention back to the tv, gesturing at this also. Frowning, he pointed out, "That video's been on the air for two weeks now. How come nobody here mentioned it to you before? You can't tell me the baby Slayers all gave up their MTV for Lent!"

In his own armchair with a hand wearily clapped over his eyes to shield himself from that unspeakable spectacle, Rupert Giles' mouth tightened in deliberation. He ventured, "Perhaps they thought Dawn already knew? Or, more likely, they decided to keep silent as not to spoil the joke when she finally learned of this?"

"Gotta admire their style, if that's the way it worked out," snickered Faith. Blithely going on in the face of a dual Summers sisterly glare, the Boston native still shrugged, "Don't think so, though. I never heard a whisper of this back in Cleveland when I was training the newbies. The way they keep on jawing 'bout us, somebody shoulda let something slip."

"Wils?" tried Xander, looking at the witch sitting cross-legged in the middle of the room while floating three feet above the floor. Willow showed no indication she'd heard him. Her eyes shut in a serene face, the levitating woman's hair swirled in a backwash from the mystical energies she was currently using to find out what'd happened _now._

Continuing to study the witch, the rest of the Scoobies soon couldn't help but to glance at the tv again during Celeste's big finish. Just when Faith was about to open her mouth and irreverently ask a seething Dawn if the other member of their group had that same bitchin' tat coyly peeking over the front top of the singer's ultra-low shorts, Willow unknowingly headed off a potential catfight by coming awake.

"Goddess," mildly commented Willow while looking straight into a dance pose not usually seen anywhere less private than a gynecologist's examination room. Shaking her head, the witch easily straightened out of her mid-air position into standing on her feet once more. A quick turn on her heels gratefully turned Willow's back to the television, even though it'd gone to commercials.

Before anyone else could start, Dawn begged piteously, "Willow, _please_ tell me you can make people forget this!"

Her eyebrows rising in surprise, Willow inquired in a perfect deadpan, "What, you don't want to be a big rock star like Madonna or the Spice Girls?"

The witch's lips abruptly twitched at getting nothing in response but Dawn's most malevolent glower at this evident lack of compassion. Willow still then managed to keep herself mostly under control, but she allowed her next words to be colored with actual humor: "Oh, don't worry. Sunnydale Syndrome just struck again."

"Huh?" was chorused by all there except for a now-chuckling witch. The rest of the impatient Scoobies waited for Willow to provide a happy explanation, which eventually was delivered in thorough detail.

"It's like this, gang. The other Dawn lookalike who's calling herself Celeste, she's definitely a product of the spell the monks did. Now that I had a chance to check her out, I also discovered more info on the other spell she's got on her, the one which made people back in California cling to their total ignorance of the going-ons in my hometown. Except it's a little bit different for that singer, and you should be really glad for it, Dawnie."

Willow beamed at that named person, who simply stared back in utter bewilderment, which was shared by the entire room. Seeing this, the witch good-humoredly went on. "What it does right now is to make sure nobody connects things in their minds about those two people. You could be in a crowd of Celeste's fans, Dawn, and none of them would ever think you even look like their idol. And if somehow your doppelganger showed up here, in this castle, she could talk to everyone but us, and again, all the other Slayers and Watchers wouldn't ever link you with the celebrity they just met. That's why nobody mentioned the music video to Dawn, Xander, because they all overlooked the resemblance."

"Oh," blankly responded the one-eyed man, whose countenance quickly scrunched into worried thought, which was soon expressed. "Hey, what if our Dawnstar and Miss No-Talent encounter each other? You said before, about _my_ double, that it'd be a bad thing-"

Willow nodded in chagrin, interrupting her friend. "Yes, the same applies with Dawn's lookalike. It wouldn't be a good idea for them to personally meet, since Dawn's Hellmouth residue might do what I warned, seriously affecting the spell which keeps Celeste thinking she's a normal person."

"_Normal?!_" howled Dawn, incredulously gazing around the room. She declared to the Scoobies staring at her, "You saw how she acted, heard how badly she sang! Meet her? Hell, I don't even want to _think _about her!" Dawn jumped to her feet off the couch, leaving Buffy behind there, to deliver one last thing at the very top of her lungs before storming out of the room, "I'm not leaving my room until I listen to the entire Beatles White Album, just to erase forever the sound of that skank out of my brain!"

For the next several minutes after Dawn's departure, there was a rather thoughtful silence in the recreation room. This was finally ended by Xander turning off the big-screen tv with the remote, and turning to face his remaining friends. His face a mask of fiendish glee, this Scooby then announced with great good cheer to the others, "For my Christmas gift to Dawn this year, I'm calling dibs on the Celeste CD. You can fight it out between yourselves over who gets her the poster, the perfume, and a signed copy of that so-called pop star's ghost-written autobiography."


	6. Chapter 6

Back in the Pasadena park, Faith snickered to herself over the fun she and the rest of the Scoobies enjoyed for the next couple of months while incessantly teasing Dawn about her vulgar counterpart. It only got better when Celeste's self-styled music career shortly crashed and burned in a spectacularly gaudy scandal. Something to do with a funeral home and vague rumors of necrophilia… Anyway, even though that resulted in the conceited celebrity utterly vanishing from further public notice, this was no help for a certain Summers daughter. Dawn remained in such a vile mood regarding Celeste that just mentioning her lookalike's name ever afterwards risked having this young woman irately throw something heavy at the ducking head of her persistent leg-puller.

Brushing away a fallen lock of hair from her forehead, Faith mentally smirked, *Damn, but Little D's got some arm on her.*

The Slayer's quiet gratification was interrupted by an odd _pop!_ noise coming from the spot on the other end of the picnic table bench. Faith had earlier laid down her purse there which contained the magical object she'd recovered from those geeks. Glancing over in surprise, this woman saw the purse had just disappeared into thin air, with a single sheet of paper now taking this leather bag's place.

Leaning to the side to grab that unexpected gift, Faith straightened up in her seat, and she read with interest the scribbled words hastily written on this note:

_Faith:_

_Your job's finished, and you can return to your vacation now. After getting rid of what you collected, Giles and I will check out your latest double. We'll tell you and the other Scoobies the results of this when you get back. In the meantime, follow the usual rules and stay far away from Agent Page of the FBI, if possible. Boy, you can sure pick them, can't you? Anyway, see you later, and have a good time!_

_Willow_

_P.S.: How do you like your mood ring?_

Letting out a loud guffaw, Faith fondly regarded the small ring still on her left hand, which was now displaying a cheerful dark blue representing its wearer's sudden happiness. Getting to her feet while crumpling the note into a little ball with her other hand, the Slayer amiably strolled out of the park, flipping the discarded note into a nearby trash can along the way. Pausing at the street sidewalk, Faith had to grin over one of Willow's sardonic comments in that recent message, about how she could pick her doubles. Hey, if that was true, Red damn well wouldn't have elected to choose one of _her_ three dead ringers.

That had been quite a shock to the Scoobies. Not just for the number of Willow replicas presently running around. Though before getting to her real reason for definitely feeling uncomfortable about this, the witch pointed out to her friends there hadn't been any actual grounds for thinking their doubles were limited to just one person, even if Xander and Dawn had tentatively demonstrated this. Not even when Willow's first lookalike had been discovered, either.

Michelle Levenstein (née Flaherty) had been completely ordinary, nothing more agreeable than a just-married young woman starting a life with her new husband. There'd been some enthusiastic discussion by a few of the Scoobies about anonymously sending a late wedding gift to the couple on their honeymoon. However, this debate had been thoroughly squashed by one of Giles' most disapproving harrumphs.

After holding up several napkins with 10's scrawled on them, the small group of Sunnydale survivors at their own table well to the rear of the large room reluctantly agreed with their beloved leader to refrain from possibly interfering in a pair of complete strangers' lives. Giving one last approving glance at a red-haired woman in her bridal dress joyously dancing with her spouse, Xander, Faith, Buffy, Giles, Dawn, and a suitably-disguised Willow left the reception to head back to Scotland. Now, that had certainly been a good time, even if a more thought-provoking surprise was waiting for them several months later in New York City.

Again, nobody had any problems with Lillian Aldrin Eriksen. 'Nice' was the most suitable description of this kindergarten teacher, who never had any idea of how the news of her existence made a number of people immediately travel by magical means to her location. There, still more of Willow's spells kept them hidden while they'd followed after the witch's double, her husband and two other people, who at that moment all seemed to be heading into a pretty crummy part of the city. Everyone's curiosity abruptly changed into total incredulity when their quarry walked into a strip club…and both Mrs. Eriksen and the whole Scooby Gang soon stared in shock at a very bored Russian woman perfectly resembling two other ladies in the audience coming out on the stage and beginning to take off her clothes.

Not even Faith had been unwise enough to laugh at Willow about the whole thing, until this woman eventually cooled down over this (_much _later), and she could herself see the humor in it all… "Barely", as Xander quipped. Their Sunnydale comrade's fragile tolerance of how one of her doppelgangers was behaving out there was further bolstered by this same one-eyed man freely admitting at last just what occurred during his short-lived road trip years ago. All it took was some sheepishly-uttered words of the "Fabulous Ladies Nightclub" to make Willow perk up from her previous grouchy temper, so that the others gladly stopped tiptoeing around the dangerous subject of Stripper Willow.


	7. Chapter 7

Rupert Giles patiently waited for Xander to stop hopping up and down until the last of the dollar bills recently stuffed inside his pants fell past his socks to the floor of the castle conference room. It was only when that young rascal bent forward to gather his latest tips when the Director of the New Council brought up an important question. Though, he didn't direct this to anyone in particular of the four women putting away their empty wallets, merely asking out loud, "Is there going to be any problem with those two doppelgangers possibly meeting each other? God knows why they would, but it can't be dismissed, after all."

In a much better mood after watching Xander prance around the room with an imaginary feather boa, Willow smiled faintly while shaking her head, "No, Giles. It's our own Hellmouth residues that's the main reason to avoid those people for fear the spell which created them will be affected. But since all our doubles are free of this taint, they can interact without any harm."

Glancing up from counting his wad of cash scooped from the floor, Xander joined in the discussion, "What about their Sunnydale Syndrome? If they've got this-"

"They do," confirmed Willow.

"Yeah, well," shrugged Xander, not taking any offense at the interruption, "I meant, why didn't it make them ignore each other, like Dawn, and, uh, You-Know-Who?" He leered at the younger Summers sister sending back at him her best evil eye over nearly saying the name which must never be spoken.

From where she was lounging in an armchair, Faith tossed her offhand comment to boytoy who'd just showed off a damned decent bump-and-grind, "Maybe 'cuz it's just _us_ again who it works on and nobody else."

Willow sent an approving look at the seated Slayer nearby, before switching her gaze back to the closer others around the conference table, which now included Xander. "Faith's right. Anybody who was, er, there at that place won't ever recognize me, thank the Goddess. Unfortunately, it won't work for Mrs. Eriksen. She'll just have to deal with what her double does, like anybody else in real life who has someone walking around looking like them."

"Uh, Willow, can you use your magic now to see if there's any more copies out there, who were created by those stupid monks screwing up?" asked Buffy in a very subdued voice.

The rest of the room glanced with mild surprise at the woman who'd been unusually quiet for her during the last several minutes. Their startled mood quickly shifted into actual worry at seeing the rare somber expression on Buffy's face. Willow was also affected by seeing this, as shown by her concerned response, "No, sorry. It's still impossible for me to find them, except through sheer accident by us. Why?"

At that point, Buffy actually appeared queasy. She reluctantly spoke, "Because I had a really awful thought. So far, all the doubles are Xan's, Dawn's, and yours, right? So, here's the problem: how do we know those are the only ones? Not just the Scoobies here like me, Giles, and Faith who haven't come across theirs yet if they exist. But even worse, from everybody else in Sunnydale who was at the Hellmouth when Dawn got sent there!"

A genuinely appalled silence fell in the room. Quick glances traded by all there saw their pale expressions were shared by the others. Which could only mean they also had the identical feelings about whom might be out there while possessing their loved ones' faces. Or much more unspeakable, their enemies' appearances.

"Is there another Glory somewhere?" whispered Dawn.

Xander wasn't paying all that much attention due to mumbling in shock, "Anya?"

Giles and Faith hadn't opened their mouths, but from the aghast looks on their visages, they were thinking about their own ghosts.

It was Buffy, though, who sounded the most wretched, when she breathed, "Mom…"

_Crack!_

Around the room, heads jerked towards this sharp noise. They saw Willow Rosenberg, the Red Witch, gazing back at them over the clasped hands she'd brusquely clapped together to get their attention. Any ire at being brought so swiftly out of their remembrances was abruptly quenched at observing this woman's stern features with tears glittering at the corners of her eyes. The others all then realized their friend also had someone she'd lost and would never find again, unless there was a chance encounter with some total stranger wearing Tara Maclay's face.

"People," Willow grimly spoke into the room's sudden hush, "All I can tell you again is what I learned studying the monks' spell. The really important thing, just like any other casting, was the intent of the spell. They wanted the Key in the care of those who'd protect her from Glorificus, and that's what they aimed for. Any other unintended result, like our doubles, is also linked to this. So, as best as I can say, there won't be any lookalikes who either had no connection to Dawn or wanted to hurt her."

In the short pause after Willow's last words, someone unthinkingly muttered to herself in a low, forlorn tone which was nonetheless heard by the others, "Guess that lets me out, then."

From where Dawn and Buffy were huddled together at the conference table, the younger woman's head abruptly snapped up, a look of actual fury now upon her tear-stained face. Scrambling to her feet, which caused the chair she'd been using to skid back, Dawn then fiercely clamped a hand onto Buffy's arm. This forced her sibling to also get up and be pulled along, when Dawn stormed away from the table while still dragging her astonished sister after the other Summers daughter.

In her own armchair, Faith quailed at the sight of these two women advancing in her direction, unquestionably due to what she'd just said. Frozen in apprehension, Faith watched disbelievingly when Dawn dropped to her knees on the floor by the Slayer's chair. Buffy was also forced to do this at Dawn's other side by that girl's irresistible grip. Unwilling at any point of this to use her superhuman strength to break free, Buffy instead started to open her mouth, about to demand some kind of explanation. Only to become mute in utter bewilderment when Dawn simultaneously reached out to put both arms around her companions' shoulders, and then pulled the two Slayers into an intense, three-sided hug, with her in the middle.

Nearly nose-to-nose with each other, Faith and Buffy traded wide-eyed stares of amazement past the back of Dawn's head, with their partially hidden features pressed against the Key's hair. This meant the older women were nearly deafened by Dawn loudly declaring with all her heart, "Faith, don't you _ever_ dare say anything like that again! You're part of our crazy family, now and forever! Any of your doubles, just like all the rest out there who might share the faces of those we cherished but don't know anything about them, they should be proud of looking like you and them!"

Gazing from a few inches into Buffy's quick smile of agreement, Faith still had to protest past the sudden lump in her throat. She husked, "Dawnie, didn't you hear what Red said? Never mind alla the crap I pulled and how it mixed with our weird-ass memories; I sure as hell wasn't even around in the 'Dale when you turned up there! 'Bout then, I was enjoyin' the fine hospitality of the California State Penal System, remember?"

In response to that, Dawn just laughed. Her delight spilled out in clear mirth, and she hugged the pair in her embrace even harder. During this, Faith sent an appealing glance towards Buffy, who simply lifted a bemused eyebrow in her own confusion.

Eventually, Dawn calmed down enough to speak again. "So _what?_ Wils also said those stupid monks intended to send me to the Hellmouth in the first place. Why, when they could've put me anywhere else in the world? Nope, I got turned into Dawn Marie Summers because it was the only way to make the best kick-ass bitch on Earth totally adore her little sister! Which was nobody but the Slayer herself, and exactly _who_ were sharing Sineya's spirit then? You, Faith, and you, Buffy, that's who!"

Continuing to learn towards Dawn from her chair, Faith felt Buffy's hands reach out to press against her back in yet another hug, all while the Hemery High transfer student enthusiastically nodded her support of her sister's assertion. Not daring to move at first, but still compelled to do so, Faith slowly reached out herself past Dawn's body, and she gingerly hugged Buffy in return. Both Summers sisters joyfully giggled at this dazed acceptance of a long-missing sibling over at last joining their family.

Of the other three Scoobies at the conference table, Xander, Giles, and Willow were proudly watching in misty-eyed approval. Up to the point when the whole room once again heard Dawn earnestly announce, "Got that, Faith? It doesn't matter how far away you were, my other older sister still had to be affected by that accidental spell. I'm sure you have at least one or two doubles out there!"

Much later while standing at the outskirts of a Pasadena park, Faith Summers had to wryly smile about Dawn's explicit challenge to the perversity of the universe, which those who well knew the dire consequences of taunting this fiend had dubbed none other than 'Murphy.' Once her little sis inadvertently attracted the attention of that specific imp of irrationality, it'd for damn sure gotten busy. Oh, you betcha.

It wasn't just one or two. Counting today, Faith's known lookalikes had now attained a grand total of _five._


	8. Chapter 8

Heading west from Pasadena, Faith easily handled the California freeway traffic. Along the way, the Slayer took the time to cynically consider it was just too fuckin' typical in her weird life for the number of her doubles to now match her favorite catchphrase: "Five by five."

Behind the wheel of her rented car, with the surfboards in the back reminding Faith she was damned well resuming her interrupted vacation no matter what, the woman driving still had to shudder slightly at the very thought this might only be the start of things. Like, maybe _multiplying_ the whole strange business to forever hassle her with twenty-five lookalikes running around!

"Yeah, right," sourly muttered Faith out loud, rolling her eyes at the notion. Yet truth to tell, among the Slayer's exasperation, there was also in there an actual touch of…satisfaction.

She hadn't ever mentioned this to the Scoobies, if only because Faith wasn't all that clear about it herself. See, it was certain as hell those other women with her face weren't family in any way. Big fuckin' deal. Alla them, anyhow, every time they looked into a mirror, they were seein' _her,_ Faith Summers and nobody else! Okay, so it was just the result of some stupid spell which magically created the different people from outta thin air. Didn't matter. You coulda say the same 'bout her, what with Momma Drunk sleepin' with some unknown dude nine months before she was born and startin' her crappy life. On the other hand, if she hadn't existed in the first place, neither would've those doubles. That gave her some sorta half-assed…connection with them, however anyone else mighta think 'bout it bein' completely bizarro.

Like she gave a shit. Faith wryly grinned past the windshield at the cars ahead in their lanes. The fact was, she kinda liked them all, starting with the new double she'd found about today, and the others, too. Sure, Agent Page (what's her first name, anyways?) was probably gonna complicate Faith's life even more, with the other woman bein' a cop and all. But this Faith-twin was a Fibbie, which meant she'd worked her butt off to successfully pass all the tests for joinin' the famed law enforcement agency. Now, _that_ was fair and square damned impressive.

Nodding her head in unconscious approval, Faith paused while a sudden thought struck her. This lady's pleased mood quickly shifted into a deep frown. In due course, she soon shrugged and mentally tucked away the questions which had just occurred to her for later, when Willow and the rest of the gang had their usual conference about Faith's newest doppelganger.

(At this meeting several weeks in the future, Faith wondered to the witch how come she'd been recognized by those geeks as Agent Page right from the start? Wouldn't her double's Sunnydale Syndrome have made those guys back at their Pasadena apartment to think of and treat Faith as an entirely different woman than this FBI representative? Under the interested gazes of all there waiting for an answer, Willow blushed bright red, before sheepishly admitting the very same point had suggested itself directly after Faith's account of her meeting with Leonard Hofstadter, Sheldon Cooper, Howard Wolowitz and Rajesh Koothrapali.

It'd been totally her fault. During the whole uproar about the magical knife being acquired by an eBay purchaser who might have wanted to actually use this deadly paranormal weapon, Willow did a hasty scan of the buyer with her own mystical powers. Thankfully, there'd been no indication Mr. Hofstadter had any trace whatsoever of supernatural talents, so Willow hadn't further investigated him. She'd reported to Giles they needed to recover the knife as quickly as possible, causing the Director of the New Council to select Faith as the person nearest at hand to perform this retrieval. When the Slayer reported the four people in the apartment had known her as someone else, a baffled Willow looked more closely at Mr. Hofstadter and his friends, and the witch had discovered something entirely unexpected.

Aside from coming face to fanged face with an actual vampire, one of the other factors which can prevail over Sunnydale Syndrome is to have such a high level of intelligence to make you become aware of the things other, less-gifted people usually miss. The Caltech gang at the apartment had enough sheer brainpower to acknowledge their guest as the lovely woman they'd earlier met. Being the smartest of them all, Sheldon might've felt something odd was happening, but given his superlative incompetence at dealing with normal society, he probably paid no attention to it, since this wasn't all that interesting, unlike a good hack-and-slash quest on WoW.)

But that was yet to come. Here and now, Faith idly entertained herself while driving through miles of Southern California suburbia by contemplating how distinctive all her doubles were, compared to those of the rest of the Scoobies. The woman inwardly smirked at even her doppelgangers being as out of ordinary as herself, which was just fine with Faith. Ordinary was _boring._

Like the first Faith alter ego they'd found, by pure chance as with the others. After all, nobody really took seriously Willow's mentioning that the monks' spell had swept not just over the entire world, but through time itself. What were they going to do about it, invent a WABAC Machine for journeying into the past and search through all of humanity, solely to see if their friend was right? Until it wound up with the whole group in the know taking a quick trip by witch-express to a Chicago Barnes & Noble bookstore, so they could gape from a safe distance at a striking woman in her mid-fifties during the book signing of this author's latest novel.

Alice Bloom had been writing ever since college, but she didn't become successful until putting into print nearly two decades ago her coming-of-age story of a ten-year-old girl taking place at the start of the 1960's, which the novelist always cheerfully admitted had been a thinly-disguised autobiography. A quick check of the bookstore produced a copy of this, which was also immediately purchased. Xander was then given the book and shoved into the direction of its author, with stern instructions to bring back something called _That Night _with a dedication to Faith Summers done on the flyleaf.

Several minutes later, this named person under her glamour spell gave a sniggering Xander the most painful wedgie of his life for convincing an amused woman to humorously inscribe, "To Faith Summers. I'm sorry you couldn't be here due to your late-night job as an alligator wrestler. Thank you for enjoying my book! Alice Bloom"

Anyhow, Faith managed to work her way through the hardback, despite never having been very much of a reader. She thought it was pretty good, even though the main character of a young girl growing up in a quiet, small-town Long Island block had a helluva different early life than someone barely surviving an alcoholic mother and Boston's mean streets. The Slayer especially liked the part where the kid had been hanging around with two neighborhood boys, some horseplay got out of hand, and while being dragged along the ground by her ankles, this youngster had lashed out with a kick and nailed one of her tormentors right in the balls.

Yup, Alice Bloom was okay, and best of all, she showed Faith that 'bout thirty years from now, the original version was still gonna be a fine-lookin' fox.


	9. Chapter 9

It'd taken longer for Faith to warm up to her second doppelganger. This was due in part of that person's discovery being a more, um, extreme situation. At the time, Xander had been alone in one of the castle's recreation rooms, watching television on the big screen while chowing down an enormous bowl of popcorn loaded with real buttery goodness and enough salt to coat the entire U.S. Northeast road network during a historic snowstorm. ("Heart attacks? We don' need no steenkin' heart attacks!")

Growing bored with his program, the one-eyed man flipped through the channels until he came to ESPN, which was showing the preliminary rounds of a cheerleading competition. Xander enjoyed the next couple of minutes, digging a hand into the bowl of popcorn to stuff his mouth. On the screen, a dozen very athletic young ladies finished their routine, and strutted off the stage floor. Several moments later, Xander froze solid, his greasy hand stiffening motionless deep in the bowl, when he recognized a certain face newly presented on the television. Two seconds after that, the Sunnydale survivor identified yet _another_ cheerleading participant, with resulting drastic consequences.

They never entirely got the butter stains off the recreation room ceiling.

A day afterwards, there were still enough teams in the second round of competition for the UCA National High School Cheerleading Championship to make everyone there ignore the sudden appearance of thirty more superbly fit girls dressed in colorful uniforms bearing the most generic school names possible. While waiting for their team leaders to make a quick reconnoiter, the three new cheerleader squads also made sure to hold their self-conscious practices as far away as they could from the other groups. Hopefully, any stray onlookers would only think they were watching some first-time entrants mortifyingly aware of their inexperience and resigned to coming in dead last.

Even Buffy had to accept a mere few hours of her tutelage, helped by some of the other Slayers with their own former cheerleading skills, wasn't going to do more than temporarily lull anyone's suspicions, at best. With any luck, that'd be all which was needed, because she really didn't have time for anything else. Not when there was the remotest chance a formerly vanquished skank had returned from the grave while trying to pull off what Buffy couldn't still help but to consider being probably the stupidest attempt at revenge she'd ever seen.

*I mean,* the blonde Slayer incredulously thought again when she sat in the spectators area for today's competition, *why in the world would _Glory_ start her big comeback by disguising herself as a high school cheerleader?*

That was definitely a good point, one which had been brought up at once during the crisis conference hastily held yesterday by the New Council senior staff, after they'd seen a replay of the sports tape. Shifting in his chair at the table inside the Scots castle, Xander absently picked a piece of popcorn out of his hair and flicked it to the floor. He shrugged to his bewildered friends, "Who the hell cares? You gotta admit, that bitch was never strong on subtlety in our previous fight with her, so maybe Glory thinks she's being clever and discreet this time!"

Leaning forward in his butter-soaked shirt, the man urged, "Whatever she's up to, we still have to check this out first hand! Just the fact that Wils can't sense anything using her mojo from where those girls are staying at their competition-"

"'Cept I got another double there, remember?" interjected Faith from across the table. Her bemused comment signified that unlike the others, she was more absorbed by the existence of a several years younger doppelganger rather than the reappearance of a former adversary the Sunnydale bunch had painfully fought and defeated at a very high cost to them. To be fair, Faith had been away from the California city during the whole Glorificus conflict, so all she had to go by were her friends' stories on how dangerous the hellgoddess had been during the whole thing.

That, and how pale Dawn now looked while huddled in her chair at the table's end, shivering in constant fright. Shooting a concerned glance at Little D, Faith impulsively vowed that nobody was gonna hurt her adopted baby sis, even if she had to knife an actual deity in the back a coupla dozen times.

From the sound of it, the Scoobies tried going head-to-head with Glory, just like Faith had done with the Beast, resulting in a distinct lack of success for them both. Nope, first unload a major case of whup-ass courtesy of Red on the bitca who's scarin' Dawnie, and then if necessary, take care of things by havin' her and B and as many other Slayers in the castle as they could grab right away all work together at stompin' this Glory into a bloody smear on the ground. You wanna settle it for once and all, you don't do the single challenge, pistols at dawn, honorable duel shit. You ice the sucker at long range and disappear 'fore the body drops.

From where Buffy was sitting next to Dawn, with this older sibling's arm comfortingly around the trembling shoulders of this other terrified girl, that Slayer traded a fierce gaze with the Boston native, as if her West Coast counterpart had just guessed about and utterly approved of what Faith was thinking. Feeling inwardly a warm rush of tenderness towards her new family, Faith opened her mouth to briskly announce to them all, including Willow, Giles, and Xander, "'Kay, people, here's what I figure we should do…"

And so, three women were seated side-by-side in the stands of a stadium hosting the Nationals, all intently watching the Malibu High Toros come out to make their usual try for this year's first place trophy. This was only a look-see by Buffy, Willow, and Faith, since none of them really wanted to start their fight with Glory right away in the middle of a crowd of innocent witnesses.

The Slayers eyed their enemy doing a last-minute stretch (well, Faith had to sneak a quick, astonished glance at a certain dark-haired girl in her own red-and-black costume). Willow was sitting placidly, with her clasped hands resting in her lap. It was only because Faith and Buffy were on opposite sides of the witch that this pair of young women felt the merest tingle of mystical energies. Willow was clearly in the middle of weaving her scrying spell to irrefutably confirm the identify of their foe-

Willow unexpectedly blurted out in a tone of deepest astonishment, "That's not her!"

"_What?!_" erupted in unison from an equally shocked duo. Luckily, the magical wards earlier cast around this small group by the witch to avoid any chance of detection by someone who now inexplicably seemed not to be Glory also kept anyone in their vicinity from listening or even paying attention to the stunned trio of women.

Willow dazedly nodded, waving a shaky hand in the general direction of where after being launched upwards by two guys, a young girl had just completed a mid-air somersault ten feet above the floor. "I'm telling you, I did my most thorough magical scan on Courtney Elizabeth, and she's totally human! The only time that cheerleader ever did anything the least bit like supernatural stuff was during a birthday costume party when she was six! Back then, she dressed up as a Fairy Princess, including carrying a fake magic wand and waving it while singing 'Bibbidi-bobbidi-boo!'"

Buffy had a note of shrill indignation in her voice when she pointed a quivering forefinger at the crowded stage filled with tumbling and dancing figures, to huffily protest, "Dammit, Wils, I've been nose-to-nose with Glory! It can't be just a big coincidence that girl looks like her identical evil twin sister!"

"Why not?" Willow shrugged. "We're due for one, anyway."

Faith contributed her own two cents right before Buffy was about to explode, "Hey, Red, maybe there's a chance you were off when you said nobody but us was gonna have doubles 'cuz of those monks. What's her name, the Glory copy, could be one of those-"

She was interrupted by Willow firmly shaking her head. "I checked, re-checked, and triple checked, Faith! Your own double down there, she's a product of that accidental spell. On the other hand, Courtney's as normal as can be, nothing like Missy Pantone-"

"WHO?!" was instantly whooped at maximum decibel level into a wincing witch's left ear.

Rubbing at this aching organ, Willow irritably turned her head, and she blinked into the ecstatic grin of a blonde showing every shiny white tooth she possessed. At the moment, Buffy Summers was doing an outstanding imitation of a gleeful Halloween jack-o'-lantern who'd just happily learned this holiday had been extended throughout all of next year.

Feeling a sudden wariness, which was helped along by the loud, doleful groan coming from her right, where Faith had just clapped her hands over her eyes, Willow hesitantly tried, "Er, yes, I think it's short for Melissa-"

"Who cares?" Buffy cackled. Starting to bounce up and down in her stadium seat, this Slayer blissfully began to chant, "Faith's got a Missy, a Missy, a Missy," keeping perfectly in time to every expression of her joy over at last running into another girl with an even more immature name than somebody called Buffy. This celebration culminated in a quick leap onto her feet, a fist triumphantly punching up in the air, and an ear-splitting screech of "GO, MISSY!" at the Toros' grand finish.

Among the crowd's applause, Willow nervously looked over at where Faith was slumped back in her own seat, arms sullenly crossed over her chest, all while glowering at a sheepish witch and her adopted sister dancing in the aisles. Eventually, Faith snarled at them both, "Yeah, yuk it up! I s'pose Dawnie and the rest back at the castle are gonna find it funny, too. Hey, at least I won't be the one to haveta tell the other Slayers with us we dragged all the way here that they don't even get to kill anything!"


	10. Chapter 10

*What's it with me an' cheerleaders, anyways?* mentally complained Faith, now almost finished driving back to her beachfront LA hotel. Just a mile or two further on, and she'd take her off-ramp from the freeway heading north. The Slayer paid only what minor attention was required to successfully negotiate the Southern California traffic, since her suddenly irksome reminiscences of this warrior woman's collection of doubles was more important at the moment.

* * *

Back then, after the whole possible reappearance of Glory which thankfully didn't occur, Faith grouchily endured during their debriefing at the New Council's headquarters conference room with Giles the other Scoobies' gleeful teasing about having a several years younger lookalike. Who not only possessed an even dumber name than B, but to add further insult to injury, that high-school kid called Missy by her friends on their Malibu cheer squad was an enthusiastic member of this bunch of girls in very short skirts, tight tops, and pom-poms.

Throughout their meeting, things eventually quieted down among the New Council's inner circle aware of the secret about the latest magical manifestation of somebody possessing an exact resemblance to one of their company. This was helped by Faith's increasingly serious death threats directed against the next smartass who suggested she doll up just like that damn Missy during the dark Slayer's next cemetery patrol on the Cleveland Hellmouth. As might be expected, Buffy hadn't been fazed at all by Faith's angry growls. Instead, the short woman smirkingly pointed out that in her own high-school days, she'd occasionally gone out in the Boca del Infierno night costumed in either the Hemery or Sunnydale High cheerleader outfits kept as souvenirs of her previous memberships in these football team support groups.

Among the shared guffaws then made by Xander, Willow, and Dawn over various long-ago fond memories, it was Giles who resignedly confirmed to a flabbergasted Faith the truth of his former charge's claims. Apparently at the time, it'd all been part of the entire 'blonde Valley Girl bubble-headed ditz' scam which had suckered in a great many Sunnydale demons thinking this little slip of a human female couldn't possibly be the legendary Slayer. They'd learned otherwise when these tricked creatures got decapitated or staked on the spot by Buffy in the middle of a very spirited cheerleader routine.

It'd been a little _too_ successful in the past, though. In the end, word eventually got around in the town's demonic circles, causing vampires and other monsters to promptly run away like hell at the very sight of some pony-tailed girl wearing this specific scanty attire in a California city's graveyard well after midnight.

In a deadpan voice which abruptly broke down into stifled giggles, Xander suggested it was still a good idea for Faith to try the cheerleader con once more in her patrols, now that their new supernatural enemies didn't know about this. Just before Faith would've irately leaned over the conference table where they were all sitting and reach out to grab hold of boytoy's patch, to then bodily yank him by this across the tabletop and introduce him to another Slayer wedgie, Giles authoritatively headed off the potential brawl.

This mature Englishman's tone was supremely quelling while he explained with precise, matchless, British stiff-upper-lip dignity that under no circumstances was he ever going to allow this again. Not when it might lead to something truly unspeakable. Such as the younger superhuman females belonging to the New Council seeing a higher-ranking Slayer clad in these same revealing garments, and then taking this for permission to wear during training and regular patrols whatever struck _their_ impish fancy.

Rupert Giles never wanted to witness in any form of media which accidentally or on purpose captured the images of a small band of young ladies after sunset expertly using archaic hand weapons to slaughter mythical creatures of the night. All while these girls were minimally dressed as cheerleaders, comic-book superheroines, female rock stars, lifeguards, terpsichorean ecdysiasts, or horror of horrors, hetaerae!

At the conference table, heads turned to where Dawn was sitting. This young woman recently graduated from Oxford dryly translated for the others, "Strippers and ho's."

* * *

So naturally, that bastard Murphy stuck it again to Faith, when a few weeks later, one more doppelganger for her was discovered. When she and Willow together began to conduct their discreet investigation regarding the girl known as Danielle Irons in East Highland High at this student's Texas hometown, Faith bitterly moaned to the amused witch, "Why the hell did she have to be _another_ goddamn cheerleader? I'd even settle for some rich, stuck-up virgin bitch savin' herself for marriage, like some a' the snooty seniors were at my own Boston high school the coupla months I was there!"

"I know what you mean," chuckled Willow, who in Faith's resentful opinion, was having far too much fun over this. Just like the rest of the Scoobies also would, once they heard about the Slayer's latest mirror image, Faith inwardly snarled to herself. The warrior woman's increasing irritation wasn't helped at all by Willow then helpfully pointing out, "But even if she's what you just said, Danielle still might've been a cheerleader anyway, like Cordy was."

"Great," Faith snapped, rolling her eyes in utter exasperation at the same time. "Means our gal's gonna be the usual fuckin' cliché, datin' nothin' less than the football quarterback while either bein' a complete goody-two-shoes or a first-class ball-breaker. How 'bout for once who we're here to take a look at turns out to be somethin' a li'l bit different from _that?_"

Oddly enough, this indeed occurred. Faith soon came to grudgingly admit over the next few hours this Danielle chick wasn't going to be as unbearable as the older woman had thought. In fact, even as the New Council members watched the current events at East Highland High while keeping themselves magically concealed by Willow's notice-me-not spells, Faith began to feel some sort of guarded approval about her unaware twin. That specific word for kinship didn't just have to do with the other girl having the exact same face as a certain Slayer.

No, it was because Danielle had a carefree personality remarkably resembling Faith's own. The younger woman enjoyed life to its utmost, liked taking chances, and best of all, she was sucking face not with the typical head jock at her school, but instead with the newest transfer student. If Gil Harris had any kind of sense, that goofy-looking teenager scheming to make himself the big dude on campus would know he completely lucked out in landing the hottest babe around.

By the time Willow was satisfied she'd learned everything possible about the newest mystical byproduct of the consequences from the spell done by the Monks of Dagon, Faith had only a single reservation remaining over her youthful double. Danielle was okay an' all, but dammit, there hadda be somebody on high havin' a helluva lotta fun messin' with the Scoobies, what with that gal still bein' one more annoyin' cheerleader!


	11. Chapter 11

Turning off the freeway, Faith stopped at the first traffic light. Her Santa Monica hotel by the beach was a few miles further on. This was too far away for even a Slayer to hear over her car and the street noise the sound of breaking waves, but Faith could still smell the Pacific Ocean through the open driver's side window. Her mood quickly improved. In just a little while, she'd finally get back to her interrupted vacation, and be out on the water with her surfboard, judging which were the best waves making landfall to catch and then skillfully ride inshore.

Beginning to cheerfully hum to the tune of the Beach Boys' _Surfin' USA,_ Faith broke off in mid-tune to grin through the windshield. The Slayer suddenly remembered there was something more to be happy about concerning what she'd just been thinking, her various doubles.

Among these lookalikes, Faith had a tendency to keep a mental list of them. All of these were ranked by how much she was partial to the other women, who'd hopefully never know about being magically based on the one and only sexy bitch in the car. Given the latest doppelganger had been discovered just an hour or so ago, a certain FBI Agent Page, this meant Faith hadn't yet decided where to put the new double on that list. There wasn't at this time enough information for this decision so for the nonce she'd keep that Fibbie off to one side, in a manner of speaking, away from the other four ladies who were mirror images of Faith.

Right now, the rankings were as they'd been since the last inner review. Missy and Danielle were at the bottom of the imaginary list. Not due to anythin' they did, but, well… _Cheerleaders._ 'Nuff said, 'kay?

Then there was Alice in the middle, which was fine and dandy. Faith respected this older lady for sure, if only 'cuz she'd still have her looks years on, just like the writer. Hey, they were her damn reasons, if ya didn't want 'em, then fuck ya.

Now almost to the beachside hotel, Faith's smile grew even wider, as she contemplated the number one double on her list, who'd definitely stay in this top level forever. Naw, even if the Page gal turned out to be some kinda hell-on-wheels law-woman kickin' ass and takin' names of every crook and fugitive in sight, she still wouldn't ever surpass the standing of Sophia Durante, the Ultimate Bad Girl.

Not when that specific lookalike had done what Faith was in totally awe of, in _completely getting away with it._

* * *

At first, when they'd learned about it a while back, Faith had ground her teeth in silent aggravation when the other Scoobies wouldn't stop giggling over the aliases used by four women in their small gang of female crooks. At the far end of the conference table in their Scottish castle headquarters, Xander scoffed, "Okay, I might buy 'Justice', but 'Missy', again? Then the rest had to pick rhyming names for themselves? Like 'Chrissy' and worse of all, 'Sissy' for our little Faithie's twin? Who're they anyway, a bunch of eight-year-olds specializing in stealing chocolate chip cookies?"

After having a good laugh over that, the New Council's inner circle soon learned this was quite untrue. Their derision quickly changed into actual wonder at finding out exactly what Sophia aka 'Sissy' and the others had been up to lately. Rather than penny-ante robbery, the four girls pretended to be an animal liberation group. Under cover of this front, they expertly broke into jewelry stores and diamond depositories to then clean out every sparkling valuable in these places.

In the course of this, the soft-hearted Justice fell for a foul-mouthed guy making a road trip to Hollywood with his mute pal. Sissy and the rest just saw these two men as the perfect patsies for their next job, somebody too dumb to avoid being framed for the women's crimes.

Even with the increasingly ludicrous particulars soon afterwards, that cruel scheme worked perfectly. The innocent guys necessarily went on the lam, and Sissy, Chrissy, and Missy celebrated in grand style a very lucrative diamond theft. However, Justice wasn't happy about this. She took the diamonds and went off on her own to help the men blamed for what the gang had done.

Pursued by her former friends determined to get back what they'd just stolen, Justice and everyone else eventually wound up in Hollywood. Considerably more silliness ensued, resulting in Justice rapidly making a deal with the authorities. In exchange for the accused men being exonerated of any crimes, plus shorter sentences for the actual lawbreakers, Justice turned in the diamonds, herself, _and_ the other girls who'd also been brought to bay.

Sissy, Chrissy, and Missy were remarkably amenable about surrendering to the cops, which should've made people genuinely nervous about this. Still, after several peaceful hours in detention had lulled everyone's suspicions, Sissy and her two friends not only escaped together from custody, they also for the second time stole the diamonds in there waiting to be returned to their proper owners. On the way out, Sissy paid a very quick visit to Justice in this woman's cell.

During their terse discussion over the sounds of sirens, alarms, and gunshots, Sissy made it clear she wasn't interested in a little payback here and now against Justice. On the contrary, since the imprisoned woman had until a few days ago dependably been one of the girls, doing her job well and being loyal to the gang, Sissy would cut Justice a little slack. For betraying them over a couple of dumbass guys, making off with their loot, and sticking everyone in jail, it'd end with only Justice remaining behind. She'd have to face on her own whatever came next, but at least even the most dim-witted lawman would understand Justice had nothing to do with the others' getaway. So, the authorities couldn't go back on their deal with her.

In return, Justice quickly agreed she was quits with Missy, Chrissy, and Sissy, just before the latter woman dashed off to join the jailbreak done by the remaining pair of their former quartet. This indeed came to pass, with Justice never seeing nor hearing of her previous friends again.

On the other hand, an extremely impressed New Council learned about the successful flight out of the country by Sissy and her comrades with every bit of their ill-gotten gains, all the way to Brazil. Where, due to plans laid out years before, they were already citizens of this country under their real names, and they couldn't ever be extradited back to America to stand trial for _anything _they'd done.

* * *

Turning her car into the hotel driveway, Faith laughed out loud at again feeling prouder than she'd ever experienced before. Just like when she'd stood in her magical disguise with the other Scoobies inside the foyer of the newest and most spectacular nightclub in Rio de Janeiro. In the main room ahead, with music blasting at eardrum-shattering levels from there, dozens of partygoers exuberantly danced with each other. At one particular spot in the room, three fabulously wealthy and very beautiful young women toasted themselves with the most expensive champagne in the world at their owners' table. There, someone else with Faith's face was clearly having the time of her life.

A half-hour later, the Slayer laid flat on her stomach atop the surfboard she'd picked for today's waves. She steadily stroked with both arms to send her further out in the Pacific. At last getting to the proper spot a few hundred feet from shore, Faith sat up on her board, letting her spread legs dangle in the water. Eyeing the ocean ahead with its oncoming swells just begging to be ripped, this elated vacationer grinned to herself.

Damn, but life was fuckin' good. Maybe when she had enough for the day and went back to the hotel for dinner, it'd be a real fine idea to find someone with a camera and get a picture taken of her, just to remember it all.

Yeah, that'd be cool. Hang it up on the wall at the left of her bed back in Cleveland. Not at the space right in front on the other wall, though. Nope, she still loved wakin' up and havin' the first thing she saw every mornin' be the life-sized, framed photograph of the only double that the New Council had ever found for B, greatly to her sulking sister Slayer's immense chagrin.

Just before catching the first wave of many, Faith evilly smirked at the magnificent Los Angeles seaside panorama surrounding the woman with five of her own mystical doppelgangers. All of them who'd forever be a helluva lot better lookin' than someone dazedly starin' at the Bedford Hills guard takin' the mug shot of Kathryn Merteuil, now under arrest and facin' serious time for multiple drug offenses.


End file.
